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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019239">Standard Procedure</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659'>wicked3659</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>due South</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Pining, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:20:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Following certain events on the Henry Allen, Ray is horny and mad about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Standard Procedure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta'd by the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacetimeconundrum">spacetimeconundrum</a><br/></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray felt the burning of his lungs and knew this was it. He was dead, done for, doneski, no more Ray. Bye bye world. The cold water was everywhere and any second he was going to open his mouth to try and breathe and it would fill his lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart pounded so painfully hard in his chest and he gripped a girder tightly. ‘Sorry I gave you such a hard time Benton buddy, now you have to watch me drown. It’s been a pleasure.’ Panic rushed through him, he didn’t want to die but he supposed it was better than bleeding out on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next thing he knew was strong firm hands slapping his face, not roughly, just enough to get his attention and his eyes opened as Fraser gripped his head with both hands and pressed their mouths together. Ray was too shocked to react, so when he felt the warm slide of Fraser’s tongue he just opened his mouth. Definitely worse ways to go. Out of all the ways he would choose to go, this was now in his top five. Except, it wasn’t water filling his lungs, it was air. Hot moist air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser pulled back and made an okay sign at Ray before he was off again. Ray squinted in the murky water that stung his eyes and found he could keep going. For the moment, the tingle of his lips was pushed aside in favor of focusing on following Fraser.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell was that Fraser?” he spluttered when they'd surfaced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That thing you were doin’ with your mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that. It’s buddy breathing. You seemed to be having, well, a bit of a problem and I have excess lung capacity, so-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buddy breathing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s standard procedure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, right, so, uh… nothing’s changed has it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re thanking me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray scowled. “Well don’t get excited. The jury’s still out on this partnership thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, don't worry, I'm not excited."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know why his knee jerk reaction was to be, well a jerk with Fraser, but Ray couldn’t seem to help himself. He told himself firmly it wasn’t anything to do with Fraser saying nothing had changed, nor the surprising disappointment he’d felt at that answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t important anyway. They were rescued, Fraser listened to him. He did his whole Mountie of Canada thing and Ray seriously considered dragging the man to a shooting range once they got back to Chicago, if only so he could see him handle a gun again. Nobody had any rights looking that hot with a gun in a Mountie get up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray blinked, where had that thought come from? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were walking back to his car after being dropped back on shore and Ray spared Fraser a furtive glance. His heart was pounding again, like it had been underwater and he couldn’t stop staring. What the hell was wrong with him? Absently he licked his lips, remembering the buddy breathing and Fraser looked at him. Ray froze, feeling like he’d been caught in the act and just stared when Fraser’s eyes flicked to his mouth and he mirrored Ray’s action. His tongue sweeping across that lower lip. What the hell? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reached the car, Ray stopped and turned around, meaning to ask about the buddy breathing thing again, only to find Fraser right up in his space, backing him up against the car. “Uh, Fraser?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Ray?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doin’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Standard procedure, Ray,” Fraser replied cryptically with that damned playful smile on his face, before his mouth was on Ray’s once more and all rational thought melted out of Ray’s ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like drowning all over again, except this time instead of wet and cold, it was hot and hard and all Fraser. Ray heard himself moan into the kiss which was deep and nasty, and so, so hot as he tried to climb Fraser like a tree. He could not get enough and Fraser’s hands felt like they were everywhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray gasped when he felt Fraser’s strong thigh push between his legs and he couldn’t stop himself from humping against the firm muscle, his dick straining painfully in his jeans. He let out a rush of air when Fraser’s clever hands flicked open his fly and dove past the waistband of his boxers. Letting his head roll back, Ray held onto Fraser’s shoulders and groaned as Fraser jerked him off, hard and fast, making his head spin. Then his mouth was on Ray’s, and the deep kiss that was all tongue made Ray’s knees buckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could thrust more into Fraser’s fist and fall over that edge, because Jesus Christ he was so close! Fraser stopped and pulled away and Ray knew he should be embarrassed about the needy whimper that escaped past his lips. He stared wide-eyed as Fraser smiled knowingly at him and knelt down in front of him, yanking his jeans down to his ankles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh God,” was all he managed before Fraser’s hot mouth was on his cock and was sucking him like he had been starving for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently Ray had been starving for it because he just lost it. His hips rocked, his hands curled in Fraser’s surprisingly soft hair and he cried out as he watched his cock disappear into that sweet mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an understatement. Ray was going to die, he was dead, this was some kind of misfiring of his brain as he drowned on that ship, it had to be. But when Fraser grabbed his balls and squeezed, a finger sliding back and pressing at the sweet spot behind them, his tongue sliding against the underside of Ray’s dick as he sucked hard, Ray was done for. He came so hard he was sure he’d burst a blood vessel in his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes snapped open and Ray gasped sharply, letting out a low grunt as consciousness left him reeling. He stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, still panting and rubbed his face hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What… the fuck... was that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down at himself, he slowly lifted his bed sheet and grimaced at the sticky mess on his stomach. He’d been so exhausted after driving back from Saul St Marie and dropping Fraser off at the consulate the night before, he’d stripped off everything and collapsed into bed, not even bothering to shower. He glared down at his traitorous softening dick for a good minute before letting his head drop back onto his pillow with a defeated groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Standard procedure, my ass,” he grumbled, draping an arm across his face. The dream was still way too vivid in his mind and his dick twitched unhelpfully. Suddenly, it all became startlingly obvious why he’d wanted a transfer. Don’t fall for the Mountie had been rule number one the moment he’d laid eyes on the bastard. “I am so screwed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray was an undercover cop, and he was good at it, so he made sure that whatever feelings he harbored for his clean cut Mountie partner didn't affect their partnership. In fact, their liaison only seemed to grow stronger after the whole boat-ship incident. Fraser definitely listened to Ray more and if Ray found himself getting in Fraser’s space or touching him more than was absolutely necessary, well, they were partners. It was only natural. Besides, Fraser never seemed to mind and this was a guy who ran away from Frannie if she so much as blinked at him. Fraser would say something if he minded, surely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself gazing a couple of times, when Fraser was distracted or focused on something or someone that wasn’t Ray, which, if he was being honest, wasn’t all that often. His thoughts always circled back to that ‘buddy breathing’ they’d shared. Fraser was a stand up guy, the straightest of the straight, he wouldn’t have lied to him about it being standard procedure… would he? Ray had found himself starting to wonder. He wondered if Fraser ever thought about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a dangerous line of thinking, but he couldn't stop. When he'd realised he was hot for Fraser, he’d been so ready to cut and run. Get his own name back, his own life. Get as far away from Fraser as possible. Ray had known it a good idea to part ways, given his </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the guy, Fraser would have been impressed by his logic, but the thought of them going their separate ways now made him feel slightly sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were a duet and that, in Ray’s book, was greatness. Fraser was his best friend, the best partner he’d ever had - or who’d put up with him at any rate - it had been a dumb idea to try and walk away. Ray was man enough to admit when he was wrong. Thankfully, the problem was solved and they were back, a one-two punch, boom boom, shake bad guys shake. If only he could get his damn dick to stick to the program and stop getting hard for his partner. Preferably before he did something dumb like drag him into the supply closet and have a lesson in buddy breathing 101, Fraser style. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray groaned as he spied Fraser chatting to Frannie across the bullpen, occasionally shooting Ray hopeful 'please save me' looks that made Ray's stomach flip and his dick twitch in his jeans. His head thunked against his desk. "I'm so fucking screwed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weeks went by and the more Ray tried not to think about it, the more he thought about it. It was worse when he was at home, by himself with nothing but his thoughts to occupy himself. Thankfully, there’d been no more dreams with a sticky ending, but that didn’t mean Ray hadn’t had to relieve himself one or a few times after thinking about Fraser’s hands gripping his face, his mouth hard on his, his tongue pushing between his lips. Ray scowled, who used tongue in a life saving procedure anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were miles away,” Fraser tilted his head a little and his tongue did that sweeping thing that immediately got Ray’s attention. “Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, was just thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About the case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning Ray popped a toothpick in his mouth and chewed it absently. “Sure, the case. It’s a, what d’you call it, a procedural thingy that the perp got off last time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, which is why adhering to standard procedure is so important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray spared Fraser a glare and flicked the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Oh, and you’d never go against procedure."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, Ray. It’s there for a reason. It safeguards us and the people we arrest. When we have to step outside of standard procedure to achieve our goals, the procedure requires changing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought settled into Ray’s brain like a penny dropping into a well. “Huh, so if it doesn’t get you the outcome you want…” he hedged carefully. “Or you know, it results in justice not being done or something, you change the procedure to get what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser tugged at his ear lobe. “It’s not quite that simple, Ray.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curling his lips, Ray rolled his eyes. Of course it wouldn’t be for Benton “By-the-book” Fraser. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There would need to be a review of the current procedure and an assessment of the best way forward before a new procedure could be drafted, approved and implemented.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh and I suppose that wouldn’t be done, say on a whim or on impulse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you referring to a specific incident?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray waved his hand absently, trying to ignore how having all of Fraser’s intense focus fixed on him made his stomach go all squirmy. “Nah, just you know… in general.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well naturally, every procedure comes with an element of on the job situational awareness as it were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh naturally.” Ray replied, half tuning Fraser out as he went into detail about the processes of reviewing and amending police procedure as an example. He was finding Fraser’s mouth far too distracting as he thought once more about that buddy breathing. Would Fraser act on impulse, even though he was saving Ray’s life. Would he grab at something he wanted just because it was there and he might not get another chance? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Fraser dammit, he mentally shouted at himself. If there was anyone, any one person in the whole god-damned world who could clamp his mouth on some other guy’s mouth, slip his tongue in there and not have an ulterior motive for doing so, it would be Fraser. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annoyed that he was even considering otherwise, Ray stood up abruptly, startling Fraser into silence. Just because Ray was a hard up, hot blooded guy in desperate need to get laid, didn’t mean that Fraser shared his sexual frustrations. He very definitely didn’t fantasize about men, or more specifically, his very male cop partner. That got him thinking about what Fraser </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> fantasize about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting his lip, Ray scowled, he was so fucked. And not in the good way. Not in the way he very much wanted, thank you kindly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I need a coffee. Coffee?” he declared before stalking off to the break room without waiting for a reply, his neck burning. He could practically feel Fraser’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he marched away. He had to get his shit together before he did something stupid and sent Fraser running back to the frozen North.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see the thing is, that was a kiss. It was a fucking kiss! Nobody sticks their tongue in a guy’s mouth without it meaning something.” Ray looked up from his beer. “Right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” the bartender made a face. “I suppose it depends on the context?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray scowled. “The context?” he repeated incredulously. “The context of having your tongue down another guy’s throat you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, the bartender nodded uncertainly. “Um, yeah. Sure… that counts as context.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Groaning, Ray’s head dropped back onto the pillow of his arms resting on the bar. “Look, it’s not… it’s not what it sounds like,” he protested weakly. “It was underwater and he was trying to save my… I mean this guy’s life. So he did this uh… buddy breathing thing. You know what I’m talking about?” he looked up hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Canting his head slightly, the man half shrugged. “Sharing air?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ray pointed at him. “Yeah that’s it exactly. Except, he slips the guy the tongue while he’s sharing said air, right?” Ray stared at the bartender who blinked back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right...?” he responded slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then he says, ‘it’s standard procedure’. Like, you don’t, it doesn’t need…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scrubbing a hand through his hair roughly, Ray sighed with barely contained frustration. He’d been mulling or rather jerking off over this for weeks and weeks now. Honestly, it was pathetic. It didn’t matter that he’d had a thing for Luanne or that Fraser had kissed Denny Scarpa, none of that had meant a damn thing. They were good, greatness even, their partnership stronger than ever, except... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Ray couldn’t stop thinking about Fraser’s mouth on his, his tongue sliding between his lips and fuck he wanted to feel that again, only, preferably not when he was about to drown. Thing was he couldn’t figure out if Fraser had actually meant anything by it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been glances, Ray was sure of it. Little looks he’d caught out of the corner of his eye, but when he’d looked Fraser had been looking elsewhere. Not to mention the being in each other’s space and the casual touching. It was driving him crazy and he was constantly half hard around him now, which was making it difficult to focus on anything for very long without thinking about it again. It couldn’t all be in his head could it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just, is it gay if a guy slips you the tongue in the process of saving your life?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mouth opening and then closing, the bartender looked around the quiet bar rather than at Ray. “I’m not really…” he sighed and shrugged. “You know, if this bothers you so much why don’t you just ask him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray glared at that question, but when he thought about it, he didn’t really have a good answer. It always came back to them sitting in a park eating roasted spaghetti or crashing at his place with pizza and hockey and Ray obsessing over that damn buddy breathing and not sneaking looks at Fraser when he’d sacked out on his couch for the night. It didn't matter that he looked good with his hair all mussed up, no Mountie mask in sight. He always looked younger and somehow more… human when Ray saw him sleeping and he felt a rush of tenderness for the infuriating man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of that mattered. The Mountie was off limits, no touching, do not pass go. So whenever Ray laid a blanket over his sleeping partner, and just happened to brush a curl of hair that had just happened to become disorderly, from Fraser's forehead, he was just being a good buddy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even Ray could convince himself of that. </span>
</p><p><span>But he was convinced, </span><em><span>absolutely</span></em> <em><span>convinced</span></em><span> that that buddy breathing hadn't been standard procedure </span><em><span>at all</span></em><span> and that Fraser, his partner and friend, had all but lied to him. The bastard. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” and wow did he really sound that whiny?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” asked the perplexed bartender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting out a sigh and downing the rest of his beer, Ray gave a ‘you know’ hand wave and pursed his lips. “Because I don’t know if I just imagined the tongue because I was about to, you know, die, and hell, who wouldn’t want that from him? I mean you’ve met him, would you say no? What a way to go. But, the thing is, I’m pretty sure it happened. Well, I’m eighty to eighty five percent sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realization flickered over the bartender’s face and he gave Ray a sympathetic smile. “Sounds like you should have another beer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if,” Ray rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the bartender dutifully placed a cold bottle in front of him. “What if whoever taught him buddy breathing had a thing for him and so now he thinks that slipping in a bit of tongue is normal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bartender closed his eyes for a moment and bowed his head before shaking it in defeat and walking away. Ray frowned and took a swig from his freshly opened beer. “Hey, it was just a question,” he pouted and sagged in his seat again with a mutter. “Didn’t have to be a jerk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Ray, do you have that Dempsey case file?” Dewey sauntered over to where Ray was chewing on a pen and staring angrily at the filing cabinet next to his desk. “Ray?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Dempsey file?” Dewey held up his hands in surrender. “The Lieu’s been asking for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray immediately relaxed and began rummaging through his pile of case files. “Uh, yeah, hang on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, if you organised your files you might find it quicker,” Dewey teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray’s head snapped around to glare at him. “Who died and made you Fraser?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I got a system alright? I don’t need anybody coming around and reorganising my shit and telling me it’s standard procedure and then making me think things are one way without giving me any sort of hint that things are actually another way, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding dumbly, Dewey just stared at the man. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, good. Here.” Ray thrust the file into Dewey’s hands, but didn’t immediately let go. “How do you know when your partner is keeping something from you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dewey blinked, Ray’s intensity was sometimes a little unsettling. “Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, like, you’re pretty sure they’ve told you a lie, and because they’re a good person, they haven’t done it to hurt you, but maybe to, to protect you from something. Maybe from something they actually want to tell you, but can’t, maybe. Do you think if you knew this person well enough, like say if it was Huey, do you think you’d be able to recognise a lie like that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dewey blinked a few times and frowned in confusion. “Are you saying Fraser lied to you about tidying your desk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Ray snapped. “No, that is not what I’m saying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he lied to you about something else, to… to protect you? Something he actually wants to tell you?” Dewey hedged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scowling, Ray growled and bristled, his cheeks flushed pink. “No, just, fuck, forget I said anything.” He sat back into his seat heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narrowing his eyes, Dewey grimaced. “You okay, Vecchio? You’re acting… I dunno…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Way crazier than usual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray stuck up his middle finger, but Fraser chose that moment to walk into the bullpen and Ray practically sat up to attention in his seat, his focus zeroing in on his partner, much to Dewey’s amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Ray,” Fraser greeted him cheerfully. “Hello, Detective Dewey.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh hi,” he grinned and leaned closer to Fraser, keeping an eye on Ray who was watching them with suspicious, sharp eyes. “Might want to watch out, your partner is one crack short of the funny farm today,” he quipped, receiving a murderous glare from Vecchio which almost made the following weirdness worth it. Dewey backed away quickly as Fraser immediately turned to Ray full of concern and they began to talk in hushed voices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dewey watched as Ray seemed to get increasingly fidgety and more disgruntled as Fraser tried to express his concern. So when Fraser placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to murmur something and Ray shot out of his seat, grabbed his jacket, and was dancing on the balls of his feet at the entrance of the bullpen like he was about to enter the ring or step onto a dance floor, Dewey was hardly surprised. Fraser on the other hand was staring in bewilderment at his mercurial partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pitter patter Fraser, let’s get at ‘er,” Ray called out, holding the door open for his partner while definitely avoiding his questioning gaze. He handed Fraser his Stetson he’d somehow picked up before ushering Fraser out with a hand firmly placed in the middle of his back, his thumb brushing over the leather of Fraser’s belt thing as he did so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making his way back to his desk with a bemused frown, Dewey tapped Huey’s shoulder. “Hey, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, for being normal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talking about Ray and Big Red?” Jack grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack laughed. “When you figure it out, let the rest of us know. I’d put money on Fraser though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dewey looked at his partner incredulously. “Money on him for what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging noncommittally, Jack smirked. “Either making Ray crack or jump him, whichever comes first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dewey snorted and then stared thoughtfully at the door. “Damn... well Ray’s definitely on the way to a full blown breakdown. He’s so jumpy today, I put money on him getting his head out of his ass before he blows a fuse or smacks Fraser again. Fraser’s just...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A freak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oblivious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hummed. “I don’t know… the man can probably tell what you had for dinner just by standing close enough and taking a deep breath. Wouldn’t surprise me if he figured Ray out before Ray did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You kidding?” Dewey grinned at him. “He’s a freak. I’m beginning to think they both are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect for each other then. Nobody else would put up with them that’s for sure.” Jack pointed out. The two men shared a laugh before Welsh’s door opened and duty bellowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray was on edge, his hands gripping the steering wheel more tightly than was necessary. Fraser was beside him as always, his wolf in the back seat. He was chatting away about the day’s consulate events, as usual, oblivious to Ray's struggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray couldn’t make out the words, didn’t care enough to try, he was far too distracted by Fraser himself, the way that mouth twisted as he talked about Inspector Thatcher and something objectionable she’d done or said, Ray wasn’t listening. He caught the way Fraser's hands moved as he spoke to emphasise a point or a feeling. How had he never noticed how much Fraser expressed with his hands? He couldn’t help but wonder if he would be as expressive with them if Ray kissed him. He wouldn't mind them being expressive all over his body if he was completely honest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gripped the steering wheel even harder and hit the horn impatiently when the car in front didn’t move the second the light turned green. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray, are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I’m fine. I’m good. Why’d you ask?” Ray answered quickly, not looking at him, he couldn’t look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just, you seem rather on edge this afternoon, Ray. Has something happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray let out a short sharp laugh. “Has something happened…” he repeated. “You know, I’ve been asking myself that same question a while now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And…?” Fraser prompted when Ray didn’t elaborate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, I decided, hell yeah it has. Something has definitely happened. And it’s all your fault and you, Benton Fraser, my friend, are a big fat liar and we need to talk. Right the fuck now!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Understood,” Fraser replied somewhat stiffly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray stole a glance at him and his scowl deepened at the sight of that Mountie mask firmly in place. “Hey, hey! Don’t go away on me. Don’t you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray, I’m not sure what you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, all will become abundantly clear when we get to my place."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Abundantly?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray shot Fraser a glare. "Yeah, Fraser, abundantly. I know words."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I never implied that you didn't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Forget about it. Important thing is, we are laying everything out on the table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, because I cannot do this anymore. I cannot, and I won’t so we’re doing this and you are going to be honest with me, Fraser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always honest with you, Ray.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glaring at Fraser’s hurt frown, Ray snarled and pointed a finger at him. “That is bullshit. And you know it.” He turned the steering wheel with more force than was necessary and the GTO screeched to a halt in its parking spot. “You, me, upstairs. Now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray got out of the car, waited until Fraser had extricated Dief, locked it and marched into his building without waiting to see if Fraser was following him. If he looked back, he would lose his nerve and he couldn’t afford that now. He’d reached the point of no return. Either they came clean with each other and Ray got some god-damned relief or they ended this thing right here, right now with him calling it quits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>quits,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought angrily. He didn’t want that, but maybe a break. He could use a break, a vacation where he could just go to a bar, meet a nice girl and take her home for a couple of nights and not think about fucking Fraser. He just couldn’t take the wanting and yearning and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking wondering</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either he and Fraser were taking this to the next level or he… well, he didn’t actually know what he would do. Explode? He could just imagine horny pieces of Ray all over the place, his dick still not getting the memo that it was not buddies to get hard for your Mountie partner. Jesus, he was losing it but he definitely didn’t want to lose Fraser. However, being around the man was torture. He’d started daydreaming about him at work, for fuck sake! The men's room of the 27th would never be the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was thirty seven years old and his body was humming with the pent up sexual frustration of a college freshman. It was embarrassing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marching into his apartment, he heard Fraser close the door neatly behind them and he took a deep breath. Chucking his keys on the table, he turned to face his partner who was worrying the brim of his Stetson nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aw hell, Ray wilted slightly and cursed. He hadn’t meant to make Fraser worry. “Relax. Jeez, I thought I was the one on edge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me, Ray, I’m just not entirely certain what it is I’ve done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got Ray glaring again. “Buddy breathing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser froze and stared wide-eyed at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wry smirk tugged at Ray’s mouth. “Yeah, buddy, you know what I’m talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, ah, no.” Ray held up his hand. “What you did was not, and I repeat </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> standard procedure. Call me a liar, I dare you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser was tense and ran a finger along the edge of his collar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray felt like he’d won the first round of a boxing match. Fraser was on the ropes and, was that a blush he saw creeping up his neck? He swallowed down the sudden urge to follow that flush with his tongue. “Everything on the table now. You do not buddy breathe </span>
  <em>
    <span>with tongue</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Fraser.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… ah… well, no… no you don’t, Ray.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding slowly at Fraser’s stammer and his inability to meet his gaze, Ray put his hands on his hips and took a step closer. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. What the hell, Fraser?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Ray.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray flinched, he didn’t like Fraser’s small voice or the way he’d reverted into parade rest, his head bowed like he was expecting to be punished. “For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon?” Fraser gazed intently at him with bright eyes. They were so blue, had they always been that blue? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you sorry for? For buddy breathing? For slipping me the tongue and kissing me underwater? Or for lying about it and saying nothing changed and letting me believe it was standard procedure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ‘ah’ me, Fraser. Do not ‘ah’ me right now. Straight answer. Did you or did you not slip me the tongue when you were saving my life down there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser looked like he was going to be sick but after a moment’s hesitation he gave Ray a short, nod, his entire body practically vibrating with shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relaxing a fraction at the admittance, Ray let out a huff of a sigh. “Okay, good. Next question. Was that just you copping a feel, getting a taste because you could, taking advantage of an opportunity or--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I mean yes, but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray held up his hand again until Fraser fell silent. “Or… was that something you wanted…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraser’s head snapped up, his eyes big and dark as he stared at Ray. “Ray?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray had been battling his desire for months now, going out of his mind with lust and confusion so when he met Fraser’s almost frantic gaze he felt calm, ready to face the music. “Tell me the truth, or I’ll have to pop you in the head. Do you want me, Fraser?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mouth opening wordlessly, Fraser’s breath hitched and his fists clenched and unclenched by his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a surprising twist, Ray was still while he waited for Fraser’s answer. He watched, hardly daring to blink, his heart thumping hard in his chest as Fraser struggled with himself. Ray could see it the moment it happened. The moment Fraser came to a decision and his heart skipped a beat as Fraser pinned him with an intent gaze that sent heat directly to his dick. Fraser closed the distance between them. He grabbed Ray’s face firmly between his slightly damp hands and kissed him hard, full of need and urgency. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray let out almost a feral growl of want. Finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>! His arms wrapped around Fraser, his hands fisting his hair and the infuriatingly inflexible wool of his uniform as he kissed him back fervently, not giving an inch. He had waited and wanted this, could hardly believe it was really happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When their kiss eventually broke, Fraser rested his head against Ray’s, both of them panting heavily, neither one willing to put distance between them. “Thank God,” Fraser breathed. “I thought… I didn’t know what I thought, but dear lord, Ray, I’ve wanted you for so long.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray let out a short laugh, half in relief, half in fucking annoyance at this impossible man and he tightened his fist in Fraser’s hair, tugging his head back slightly so he could kiss him again. This time, he slowed it right down, sliding his tongue into Fraser’s hot wet mouth over and over. He broke it to nip at Fraser’s lower lip and breathed against his mouth. “Bed now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray… is this… are we not… oh god… moving too fast?” Fraser asked breathlessly as Ray began kissing along his jaw and then licked a warm line up his throat, pulling a groan from deep in Fraser's chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fast? Fraser, you’ve been fucking with me since the Henry Anderson--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“--Allen, Ray…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray grinned dangerously and pressed himself flush to Fraser, his thigh sliding between his legs, enjoying the way Fraser’s eyes fluttered half closed and his mouth parted. Those damn Mountie pants didn’t hide everything if the hard bulge pressing against his leg was anything to go by. "But I can go slow if you want, Fraser… is that what you want?" he asked huskily, licking and nipping at Fraser's throat, sucking in the bottom of his earlobe and worrying it between his teeth gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God Ray," Fraser groaned, gripping Ray more tightly, his hips rocking against him more urgently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh yeah, Fraser was into this, into him, Ray thought eagerly. He slowed right down though, just brushing his lips over Fraser's skin and his lips. "You gotta tell me, Fraser. I gotta know… you want me fast," he kissed him deeply, all tongue and teeth, dirty and messy before pulling back. "Or you want me slow?" he kissed him again slow and sensual, drawing it out, until Fraser whimpered. He fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimpered</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ray felt like cheering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Ray."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'Yes' what?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. You. I want you, fast or slow, both, please, Ray."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd got the Mountie to beg. To beg for him. Ray didn't think anything else would ever sound as hot as Fraser, needy and horny, did at that moment. “Oh, you've no idea how long I've been dreaming of this, of you, so if I don’t have you naked in my bed in the next five minutes, I swear to God I’m going to shoot you and then myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That will be entirely unnecessary, Ray.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unnecessary my ass, you drove me crazy! Not knowing if you wanted me, if you thought about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, Ray, I did nothing but,” Fraser uttered, his arms tightening around Ray, as he tongued that sweet spot just below Ray’s ear, making him get rock hard so fast, he went dizzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bastard, get in that damn bedroom,” Ray laughed, grabbing Fraser’s Sam Brown, dragging him the rest of the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray, the uniform,” Fraser chided with absolutely no heat in his words, his eyes shining at Ray with a very different kind of heat as he allowed himself to be dragged regardless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fraser, when I’m done with you, you’re not going to give a fuck about the damn uniform,” Ray’s grin was feral as he tugged Fraser in for another fierce kiss, swallowing his delightfully wanton moan and kicking the door shut behind them.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by a conversation on discord between <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacetimeconundrum">spacetimeconundrum</a><br/>and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesentimentalist">thesentimentalist</a><br/>I hope this was the fun smutty read you encouraged 😊😅</p></blockquote></div></div>
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